#which went from me believing that i had seen this as a quote from some random person on twitter and internalized it

[madisoncounty]

"and then you look at it, and it looks... otherworldly. this is denis. he just creates this shape. it's not perfect. it's timeless. it reminds me of... do you remember arrival? you know those big alien creatures? that's the shape." — rebecca ferguson in an interview with hollywood insider

[ellecdc]

Hi! I’m back 😬. I’m still extremely new to requesting so feel no pressure to write this soon. I was thinking of quiet!reader, who gets nervous when she is around Regulus and instantly starts saying the most out of pocket things and being chatty to fill in the silence. Regulus finds this amusing and usually keeps a serious, quiet demeanor to hear the weird things that come out of her mouth. 😊

looolllll the second I got this request it made me think of that Philomena Cunk meme on TikTok where people were like 'me whenever the conversation lulls' - so I had to borrow that quote!!! (let me know if you find it). Thanks so much for requesting babes - hope you love it 🫶

Regulus Black x quiet!fem reader (who can't shut up around him)

The world was out to get you, that much you were certain of. You were certain of this fact because this was the third time this week that your table in the library had somehow attracted the elusive Regulus Arcturus Black. 

Usually, this would not be an issue. In fact, one could argue this was a rather nonissue, seeing as you were sort of embarrassingly completely infatuated with the aggravatingly quiet boy in your year.

However, it appeared that the company of one Regulus Arcturus Black short-circuited some fundamental part of your brain which caused you to blurt out the most asinine comments known to all of wizardingkind – nay – humankind. The universe has never seen the likes of such horrible conversation. 

It went a little like this: 

Earlier in the week you had set up your arithmancy homework out in front of you at your favourite table in the library. It was your favourite table because it had a window view, but that window view was the least distracting window view in the whole library. It also was the perfect distance to a fireplace, meaning you could manage to stay warm in the stone castle during the cold Scottish winters. 

Unfortunately, it seemed, the table didn’t give you a good vantage point to alert you when one Regulus Arcturus Black made an appearance.

“Mind if I sit here?” A quiet voice startled you out of your calculations, causing you to overturn a pot of ink in front of you.

“Fucking Merlin and Morgana! I- oh, erm, uh, no I uhm, fuck.” You sputtered as you split your attention between the boy standing across from you and the pool of ink quickly making its way towards your skirt. 

With a non-descript flick of Regulus’ wand, the mess was gone – though the damage to your parchment was unsalvageable.

“Oh, uhm, thanks. Sorry I – erm, have a seat. Although, you might not be safe!” You tried to joke but your voice came out disturbingly high, and the (failed) ‘joke’ made you flush hot with shame.

“I’m usually way cooler than this.” You tried to argue, before you realized that someone way cooler definitely wouldn’t have just said that.

Regulus was either unbothered by your horrifying actions or chose to ignore them. He opened his textbooks and began taking notes like you weren’t even there, while you sat in the most awkward and uncomfortable silence of your entire life.

It wasn’t long before you decided you couldn’t take it anymore, standing abruptly – so abruptly, in fact, that you had to quickly save another pot of ink from spilling – and began hastily gathering your things. Regulus did look up at this, and his eyes on you seemed to cause another malfunction to your central nervous system.

“Well, I must be off. I have other homework to dump ink on.” You said, except you didn’t deliver the sentence as a joke and it sounded all too believable – paired with your actions today, and you were certain he believed that’s exactly what you were off to do.

“Toodaloo.” You called and ran from the library.

Toodaloo!?!?! Are you fucking serious!?!! TOODALOO. Oh gods.

You didn’t dare return to the library the following day.

The day after that, though? It was fair game.

You were once again sitting at your favourite table and had ensured you placed a sticking charm on the bottom of your ink pots to avoid any more unfortunate accidents, when the clearing of a throat interrupted your studies.

“Mind if I sit here?” Regulus asked quietly, motioning to the seat across from you.

He’s kidding, right? After what happened two days ago, he can’t possibly want to sit with you?

Nonsense, perhaps this is just his favourite table in the library too.

You were determined this time not to make a fool of yourself.

“Have you finished the rune translations for Professor Babbling, yet?” Regulus asked.

No, the world was definitely out to get you.

“I, erm, I’ve started it. I believe it references the magic practiced by the Egyptians during the Predynastic period. Quite interesting stuff, Ancient Egypt. Did you know that Egyptians believed the most significant thing you could do in your life was die?” 

You were talking a mile a minute. You knew this to be true due to the fact that your tongue was actually tripping over your words, but while your brain was shouting shut up shut up shut up shut up, your mouth just kept moving.

“Is that so?” Regulus asked, his eyes squinting ever so slightly as he scrutinized you.

“I don’t know actually.” You admitted, realizing you may have just lied to Regulus Black about Ancient Egypt. “I, I suppose I meant that they put way more emphasis on death than life.” You cringed again. “I don’t know if that’s true either – it’s just, it’s... it's the pyramids!” You shouted desperately, earning you a shush from the librarian. 

“The pyramids?” He asked incredulously, a smile playing on his lips.

He was making fun of you, surely.

“Yup. Pyramids.” You squeaked, turning your face back towards your textbook.

“And you got all of that from the runes translation?”

Your face burned in shame.

“Uhm, no. The runes said no such thing. I just…know things.”

“You know things?”

“Right like, uhm, oh apparently Shakespeare didn’t actually write any of the works attributed to his name. Did you know that? William Shakespeare’s parents were illiterate - which doesn’t necessarily mean much because, perhaps he became learned later in life, right? However, William Shakespeare’s own children were also illiterate. I mean, what famous playwright wouldn’t teach their children to read? It’s all bollocks.” 

You had to catch your breath at the end of your tangent.

“That’s a bold claim.” Regulus said plainly. 

Fucking hells, was it hot in here?

“Right, well, erm. I have to go.” You said as you gathered your things and rushed towards the door.

“Uhm, Y/N?” Regulus called.

“Yes?”

“Your wand?”

You looked back at the table and, sure enough, your wand sat forgotten in your place. 

“Right, thanks. Uhm, best of luck on the rune’s translation. Let me know if you need help and erm, uhm, I - bye!”

You stayed out of the library for two days after that.

Which brought you to today. You decided to try to save yourself the humiliation and Regulus the hassle of having to sit with you by finding a different table. You would leave your favourite table to Regulus if it meant saving yourself the embarrassment of uttering absolute nonsense to your schoolgirl crush.

What you had forgotten, however, was how the world was absolutely 100% without a doubt out to get you.

“Mind if I sit here?” Regulus asked quietly, causing you to look up so quickly and, not being used to this table and unaware of the fact that you were sitting under a light sconce, you smacked your head rather painfully in the action.

“Son of a fucking dugbog.” You spat miserably as you rubbed at the sore spot already producing a lump on your head.

“Why?” You all but screeched.

Regulus tilted his head at you as one of his eyebrows raised. “Why?”

“Yes, why.”

“Why what?”

“Oh for – why do you want to sit with me?!”

He looked close to smiling as he scrutinized your form. “Do you not want to sit with me?”

“Of course I want to sit with you!” You admitted embarrassingly - and loudly - earning you a shush from the librarian.

“So, I can sit here then?”

You groaned and let your head thump onto the table in front of you – at least now you’d have a matching lump on the front of your head too.

“At the risk of me making a total and utter fool of myself? Sure, be my guest.”

You swore you heard him chuckle under his breath as he pulled the chair out across from you. You didn’t dare lift your head, however. Perhaps if you couldn’t see his piercing silver gaze, or his adorable black curls, or his stupid smirk, then maybe you wouldn’t be forced to say something ridiculous. 

“What? No fun facts for me today?” Regulus – the arse – asked from across from you.

You raised your head slightly, though left your shoulders at table level as you levelled him with a glare.

“You’re doing this to me on purpose, aren’t you? What, you get off on me making a fool of myself?”

Regulus smirked, though something in his eyes turned a little soft as he spoke. “I don’t think you make a fool of yourself.”

You scoffed and let your head fall back to its previous spot with a thud. “You’re an arse and a liar, Regulus Black.”

“Okay, perhaps you’ve been a little foolish.” He conceded, causing you to groan into the woodgrain of the table. “But I’ve enjoyed every second of it.”

Your head snapped up at that, and even Regulus grimaced as he watched you just barely miss the light sconce behind you.

“You’ve…enjoyed me making a fool of myself?” You asked incredulously.

Regulus moved his head back and forth in a sort of ‘so-so’ gesture. “I’ve enjoyed getting to listen to you. Why do you think I’ve been asking to sit with you all week?”

Apparently, your table wasn’t Regulus’ favourite table. Or at least, that wasn’t what made it his favourite – it was the fact that you had been sitting there that had made it so.

And ever since then, whatever table you were sitting at in the library – one would likely find Regulus Black there too.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hey bunny please can I get some Belgian waffles with a mince pie and a lemon slice with a margarita and a espresso shot (with Ghost) Ps: you’re one of the best COD smut writers fr

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i accept for all kinds of fandoms, so please don't hesitate to check it out! thank you! as for this lovely anon, thank you for the submission!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + mince pie ("i'm not jealous.") + lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + margarita (unprotected sex) + espresso shot (dirty talking) served by simon "ghost" riley (call of duty)!!

cw: smut/pwp, unprotected sex, jealousy, dirty talking, possessive!simon, creampies, wife!reader, (semi)dom!reader, cowgirl position. mentions of cheesecake

simon loved his missus. oh, there was no other woman quite like you. you and simon had be married for two years now and he still hadn't got tired of you. when you laughed, he smiled. something he thought he'd never do after the life of suffering he had. he believed his heart still beat because you loved the sound of it.

you were his wife, the lovely mrs. riley. and it took years of suffering for simon to realize that if he loved something. he had to hold is close. and with you, you were the closest to him.

which was why he was a little protective over you.

"simon james riley." you said with your arms crossed, "you are the most possessive man in all of this country. hell, maybe this entire continent! and don't think a cheesecake is going to make it all up to me."

simon slumped his shoulders a little, "love, please."

you crossed your arms tighter and eyed your husband, "simon. you told my male co-worker, quote, 'i cum in that every night'. you jealous fuck!" you threw your arms up.

simon attempted to defend himself by saying, "i'm not jealous.", he was a ghost on the battlefield. he handled more dangerous missions than the average special-ops soldier. he was battled bruised and scarred. but yet, under your stern gaze, he felt very human. where most assumed that the hulking size of mister riley meant he wore the pants in the relationship, it was quite the opposite, mrs. riley was the head of the house.

"simon. please. you know that i love you more than there are drops of water in the ocean." you dropped your arms, it was impossible for you to stay mad at him forever. he was your beloved husband. you got closer to him on the couch and dropped into his wide lap and took his square jaw in your delicate hands, "there's no need to get possessive of me."

he sighed and wrapped his strong arms around you. you held onto his face and guided it to yours. you kissed him on the lips and he eagerly kissed back. when he pulled him he cuddled you closer in his grasp and said, "it's not. it's them. i've seen every shade in a man. if somethin' happened to ya, love. i'd never be the same. i'd be a real ghost then."

"then don't make me send you to the afterlife because you keep telling people how much you finish in me." you said, shaking your fist at him. it wasn't totally serious, but it also wasn't totally joking. you knew simon worried, there was a reason you had your location on all the time when you went out.

you knew your husband had seen so much hurt in the world. the kind of pain that you couldn't wrap your head around. you had seen the scars from his father, caked into his skin. jagged and rough. even though they were buried under tattoos, you could still make them out. your husband's life had been rough, so you couldn't stay mad forever.

you placed your hands on his broad chest then gripped onto the front of his well loved navy blue shirt. you leaned towards him and gave him another kiss, "thank you though." you had to admit.

he raised an eyebrow and looked at you curiously. you were about to bite his head off and now you were thanking him?

"for wanting to protect me. i know it's only second nature for you." you patted his chest before you got up from his lap. you held out your hand to him, so small compared to his, "i know you love me, simon. even when you drive me up the wall with your... brash comments." you slumped your shoulders a little, "it feels nice to know that someone out there loves me."

he got up and took your hand. his hands were so rough and dry. they were like polar bear paws compared to yours. then again most things on him were bigger compared to you. he pulled you close to him and wrapped a strong arm around your waist. he looked down at you said said, "anythin' for you, lovie. you're my wife. i made that promise to ya, and i intend to keep it. don't like liars and men who don't look after their women." then let you out of his grasp to lead you to the bedroom.

you gave him a slight push onto the bed and he was already taking his shirt off. there was something about your husband being dominant that was a turn on. but, sometimes you wanted that control. and simon was more than happy to hand it over. like as he got undressed without you even having to ask. his strong body was exposed to you from his thick tattooed arms, to his dirty blond happy trail, to thighs that could crack someone's neck. he was so physically imposing compared to you. but you held his invisible chain.

you stood there with your hands at your hips, feeling simons' gaze along your body. you asked him, "are you going to be a good boy for me, si? be the boy i know you can be."

you watched that thick neck swallow and his cock stand a full mast. you giggled, the answered your question. you felt his gaze intensify on you as you undressed. exposing your curves to the man you married. you heard him shift on your squeaky bed.

once nude, you got into bed and straddled your husband's waist. he laid back onto the bed and watched you get on top of him. your pussy rubbed against his hard cock and you let out a soft noise. but when you sank down on his impressive length, he was the one making all the noises.

"shit, love. holy fuck. shit! shit!" he groaned as he buried his hands into your hips. not enough to harm you, but enough to feel closer to you. his words were silenced by your lips, tender and sweet against his.

"i'm sorry, what was that, si? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." you giggled, lips close to his. he could feel the jump in his pulse. you took him in for another kiss and moved your hips against his. his cock hit in all the right areas and it made him pant heavily.

his eyes could've rolled back into his head, "nothin', love. i'm sorry. i'm sorry for scarin' off your co-worker. i just, i just want to make sure you keep bein' my woman. my life."

you took a hold of his face as you moved up and down on his cock. you peppered his face with kisses as you moved, going across every scar on the flesh.

you moved against him, the friction made him see stars. oh, you were perfect. even with your size difference, you still took him so well. he was honoured in all honesty. you worked so hard, he remembered having to give you the dimensions of his cock so you could find a toy close enough to its size to practice on. while that wasn't a story told at your wedding, it did get him through a lonely two weeks in austria. knowing you were back home riding silicone to make yourself better for him (as if you weren't perfect).

he held onto your hips and let you work against him. he could feel the pounding in his chest at the sight of you. and you were the same way. you placed your hands on either side of his wide chest and moved up and down his cock.

big scary man reduced to pathetic moans and soft words by his wife's body. it would be cute if it wasn't so pathetic.

"see what happens when you're a good boy, simon? you get all this and more. your wife's pretty cunt. i know you drool for it every day. kick off those boots, get out of your mask and starting hunting to get a taste of me." you purred in his ear. it made him feel fuzzy all over.

you felt your heartbeat in your throat as you kept moving. you clutched onto the covers and really put your back into it. his cock hit so perfectly, it made you see star behinds your eyelids.

it felt so, so good. it lit a fire in you to make you two reach your orgasms. he watched your body work with him, rutting against him. it left warmth in your belly, and pooled into your limbs.

"i love you." you said.

"i love you too. fuck i love ya." he groaned as he felt the shudder of pleasure through his body.

such a rough man that would fold so easily for you. you rose and dropped your hips at a quicker pace. simon's pants were heavy as he watched you climax. as you arched your back and gasped into the air. your body went tense and it made simon finish inside of you.

cumming in your pussy settled a beast in simon's blood. that he had marked his beloved from the inside. it made a little something rise him that was settled when you slowed to a stop and rested your head against his shoulder. his cock was semi-hard and still nestled inside of you. you sighed contently.

"you are the most possessive man in this country, si."

he wrapped his arms around you as you let your bodies cool down. both breathing heavily from the after shivers of pleasure. he said softly, "yeah, love. but, only because you're my whole world. only a fuckin' idiot would lose you."

you looked up at your husband and kissed him on the lips, "well then, mister riley. i think there is an apology cheesecake in the fridge waiting for us. or at least me, since you bought it for me." it had slipped your mind earlier, but now you craved something sweet.

simon cupped your ass for a moment before he kissed you. anything for his loving missus. the woman of his life <3

[drdemonprince]

I keep seeing the posts about male socialization and idk it makes me feel weird because I identify as transfem and I *do* believe I had male socialization. I find it easier to identify with and understand male groups and to feel involved in the while I feel less at ease understanding how women feel and think even though my personal view of myself leans more towards a feminine identity. All these posts make me doubt that I am truly "transfem" and that even if I am, that I am fundamentally transfem in a different way than most other transfems I run into. Is there any sources or writing out there that either provides a counter-perspective or at the very least points to nuance on this subject from a transfem lens? I wish I didn't feel so alone with these feelings.

Your feelings and experience do not make you any less legitimate as a transfeminine person. A lot of trans women rightfully and understandably need to counteract the notion that they're oppressive privileged males or whatever by asserting, as clearly as they can, the many ways in which their socialization was a female socialization, with all the double-standards, demanded emotional labor, sexual predation, etc that entails -- but the very need to assert these things is due to the culture's twisted misconceptions about what gender even is and how it operates.

It's not as though a young person only gets the socialization of the binary gender to which they were assigned -- they get mandatory cishet socialization, and they see what is expected of the "other" gender, and that impacts them, and the standards for that other gender also influence how they are interpreted and seen.

And so I do think, to a certain extent, that when trans people assert that we actually didn't get socialized as our assigned gender at birth, we got socialized as the correct gender, actually, we are unfortunately ceding ground to the transphobes on a couple of key points. One, we're conceeding that there is a singular binary socialization that the two genders each get, which are separate from one another and always exhibit specific features, and two, that a person's socialization as a young person is a key determinant of their gendered experience, privilege, and identity forever, no matter what happens after they are young.

And you know, both those things are totally wrong. There is no one female socialization. I've written about this before, but I wasn't raised to be feminine. I was raised the way working-class girls are raised, which is to be no-nonsense, unfrivolous, serious, sporty, and capable -- a wife and mother, but the kind that never wears a skirt or cries in front of people. And there is no singular "male" socialization either -- I cite a few trans femme people in this piece who experienced themselves as having some male privilege before they transitioned, and some more typically "male" experiences, while also quoting a number of trans women whose lives went the exact opposite way. I assert in the piece that their experiences are theirs to name, and that there's a number of different ways we might each understand and categorize them personally -- especially when we take into account how much gendered socialization is dependent upon class, race, immigration status, diasporic status, and much more.

My view is that however you think your live played out, and whoever you find community alongside, you're right. I'm about to answer a similar ask about this from a trans masc perspective, but I'm a guy who has a ton of women friends and always have. I grew up mostly with girls as my closest buddies and we did things like playing pretend and having slumber parties and doing makeovers. I could chalk this up as a "female socialization" experience I guess if I wanted to. But I also grew up with a lot of gay boys, and I am a gay man, and guess what -- a lot of us grow up with predominately female friends. I don't think I have some essential feminine quality because my friends kept insisting on putting eyeshadow on me when I was ten. The fact I was bad at sports and couldn't be the tough, no-nonsense person that my culture expected me to be was gonna affect me whether I was a boy or a girl. And my upbringing was significantly different from that of one of my very best, oldest friends, whose family owned a successful business and were able to buy her a car and a horse and shit.

You're not betraying anything or lessening your own transfemininity by resonating with some typically "male" experiences or for having close male connections. Lots of queer women do! Just like I have plenty in common with lots of women! We don't say that cis women aren't women because they grew up tomboys, or had a ton of brothers, and the same is true of you. Even if you don't think of your younger self as "a tomboy" or even as a girl. You don't have to ascribe to the narrative that you were always one gender and always moved through the world with that identity. To demand that all trans people do so is respectability politics -- we cannot and should not require that all people be trans in the same ways. I have written before that transition to me feels at once both pre-ordained AND a choice that I made. You can say that you lived as a boy for some years or were a boy if that feels right to you, or that you had certain privileges while also suffering from dysphoria and disconnection; it's your life and you know it best and what serves you.

I wish I had narratives from trans women writers to direct you to, but for the most part the trans women who I've heard express feelings like yours have been in the support and discussion groups I've been in, and in private conversation -- I think because the socialization experiences of trans femmes are so unfairly politicized. I hope if any trans femme people see this have anything to share or any words to say that they will!

[dalliancekay]

Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE

Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to (or at least should) suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. As the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop....

...after this he drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Or, for the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. For Heaven. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And so for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3 (to I assume) even out the scores. Or... to deserve Crowley. Some people also want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he has (so thoughtlessly) done.

Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.

I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book, my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I...did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating as well, and by furiously (but quietly) trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel I get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck (Crowley's 'What's the point of it all' at the beginning of S2). I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, but I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.

But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying from then on.

And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?

How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?

How did Aziraphale spend the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war? He had no idea where Crowley was. What happened to him. He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away. We didn't see him drink and cry, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming. The wait for what will happen now.

ALL his worries over the Arrangement. Was he worried for himself? Do we really think that?

Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that. And what happened to the angel then?

He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? And why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought will happen if he survives this), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it. No hesitation.

Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale? About his sadness?

Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. First of all, he was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe. They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go. They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage. I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales. And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point. And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances. He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision. Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they both BELONG to them. Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress like Crowley does. He will learn to be more open, I'm sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.

Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * One more note on grief: (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment

It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, not at all. But asking how I am can only end up in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid, unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do). I think...this would probably work not just for someone who is grieving but also for someone who you know is dealing with depression for example or a serious illness etc. Edit 2. It's now almost (in 15 days) a year since my brother died. The random attacks of pain and grief have lessened and I have started to do more of the things I enjoyed before... and I am able to answer how are you questions without feeling like they are trying to mock me (the questions, not the people). So I suppose things do get ... lighter? More diffused? I'm not sure. Because it's still exactly as unfair that my brother has not lived this past year as it will be however many years I will be here without him I expect.

[loggiepj]

To Love A Lannister

chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Months had passed when you were finally sent back to the Capital, accompanied by your cousin Prince Oberyn and his beloved paramour Ellaria Sand.

King Joffrey was to marry Princess Margaery Tyrell of Highgarden. It was a month-long preparation for the wedding and you had insisted, against Oberyn's wishes, to arrive earlier than expected. To keep appearances, as you quoted your own father. 

And you knew it wouldn't be too long since you'd get to meet Cersei again. You promised to be on your utmost behavior for the entire duration of the trip. But three days had since passed and you hadn't seen the Queen herself.

Until one small celebration in light of the King's engagement brought you back to her. A tourney was being held as requested by the King himself.

"Your Grace. Lord Tywin," Oberyn greeted the moment you both appeared in front of Cersei and her father, Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock.

"Prince Oberyn," Tywin said back. Cersei forced an uptight smile, that was until she looked at you, her smile turning into a frown. Her eyes spoke of sudden curiosity.

"I don't believe you have met Y/n," Oberyn went on, chucking some grapes into his mouth as he talked. "This is the Lord Hand, Tywin Lannister, and Cersei Lannister, the Queen Regent."

"My Lord," you said, bowing a little, then you met Cersei's gaze. "Your Grace."

"Charmed," Tywin said.

"Are you a bastard in Dorne? I don't believe we have met before," Cersei answered. And you could not muster back a response.

"Y/n here is my cousin," Oberyn replied. "She is the only daughter of Y/f/n Martell. And we don't despise bastards in Dorne."

Cersei raised her eyebrow. "No? How tolerant of you."

"I expect it is a relief, Queen Cersei," Oberyn continued, "You are about to give up your regal responsibilities. Wearing the crown for so many years must've left your neck a bit crooked."

"I suppose you'll never know, Prince Oberyn," Cersei curtly replied. "It's a shame your older brother won't be able to attend the wedding."

And they went back and forth with their harmless yet sharp banters. All the time your eyes never left Cersei. You just found yourself unable to look away.

Yes, she was vicious and cruel. But you were willing to see her, truly see that there's still kindness underneath.

~~~

You weren't meant to meddle. But you just saw King Joffrey almost killed some squires in training over swordfight in the courtyard. And no one stopped him, not even when Cersei arrived and you thought she'd stopped it.

"That's a Valyrian sword, that is, right, Your Grace?" you began, stopping Joffrey from slicing the arm off the small squire. "I've never seen such steel for a long time. It must be an honor to have held it through the war. You were incredible."

Joffrey was about to strike whoever it was that disrupted him but when he saw a lady like you, especially from house Martell, he controlled himself. "Yes, My Lady," he said, showing off his blade. "A lot of blood has painted and blessed this blade."

You smiled, even when you were internally laughing, knowing he only got the sword from his grandfather a day ago. Then you unsheathed your sword from yours, making him jump and step a foot back from you.

"I've always wanted to fight with you, Your Grace," you said, then added quickly, "that is if you would permit it. To be trained by you would be an honor I'd carry back to me in Dorne."

Joffrey chuckled, as he swung his sword rather arrogantly, knowing a lady like you wouldn't be a threat. "As my lady wishes," he answered, a sneer on his face.

Your eyes darted back behind him where his mother Cersei was staring with a cold look on her face. And you winked her way and smiled.

It didn't even last thirty seconds when you had managed to disarm the King which led him unto the ground, his sword meters away, as he covered his face in fear.

But you only held your hand as you helped him stand. You could only chuckle as he pushed you away and began to head inside, his knights on his feet.

"Thank you for the lesson, My King!" you yelled back as you laughed. Then you turned to meet Cersei's glare at you before she went back inside the castle.

~~~

Oberyn and Ellaria treated you with whores of your choosing at a certain brothel near the Red Keep. To them, it was just a usual day. Oberyn once said that while still young and alive, he'd savor everything that is to love. And that included whores.

"So, who's it gonna be, Y/n?" Oberyn asked, as the brothel's owner presented the naked whores in front of you. "I have carefully chosen some blonde ones for you, given your current liking."

One of the whores slowly stepped towards you as she caressed your cheek and began nibbling your ear. Of course, any human being was weak to its urges.

Then the other two whores walked towards you. One began threading her fingers with your hair, while the other brushing some hair over your ear as her lips made contact unto your jaw.

"Or you could have all of them," Oberyn said, chuckling, as he threw a bag of silver towards the brothel's owner.

"Wait!" You shouted as you stepped forward just to get away from the blonde women. "As much as I find you three lovely, I'm only here to accompany my cousin to seek some sustenance for his paramour."

Oberyn laughed as he went back to the other tent, where you could see Ellaria being eaten out by another whore. "Your loss, Y/n."

You decided to wait by the counter instead, smiling at female whores winking your way.

"Saying goodbye to your old practices, My Lady?" Tyrion said as he greeted you by the door.

You could only laugh. "Well, I think it's time for me to settle, Lord Tyrion. Spending time with whores was nothing but a wonderful experience I'd wish to treasure. Now, I'm old and my father seeks for me to marry someone."

Tyrion hummed in agreement as he poured ale on his mug. "You sound like me. Those days are over now. . . . So tell me about your swordfight with the King. I heard you were quite famous in the Red Keep for standing up to him."

You both laughed as you recounted the story. Tyrion was probably the tenth person you had shared the encounter with Joffrey with.

When the night was over and you went back into your chambers in the Red Keep, you didn't expect to be stopped short by the gate entrance by Jaime Lannister himself, his handless arm held in front of his chest.

"Good evening, My Lady," he said. "The Queen Regent would like to see you in her chambers."

And for what reason, you certainly had no idea. You'd want to ask Jaime but the sound of your own footsteps and the clanking of Jaime's armor as you both headed to her only grew painfully louder each second.

"You called for me, Your Grace?" you greeted the moment you entered Cersei's chambers.

Cersei's back was at you. She was in her white underdress, her golden hair flowing freely on her back. "Yes."

One look from her at Jaime and he left the room. Then she turned to look at you.

"I see you've been enjoying your stay here at the Capital," Cersei began, as she poured herself a cup of wine. "Rather enthusiastically, I must say."

"Yes, Your Grace. It's different back in Dorne, where it's arid and dry. I love Dorne, don't get me wrong? But it's nice to be away from home even just for a short time if you know what I mean."

Cersei smirked. "You certainly had a specific taste like my brother. I believe you've met the Imp."

You stared at the floor before gazing back at her. "Well, Tyrion has showed me how wonderful the Capital is-"

"You meant the whores?"

You flinched. Cersei then offered you a glass of wine, to which you declined.

"I'm afraid I'm indisposed from drinking, Your Grace. Must be all the ale I've consumed."

You could have gotten yourself in danger by denying an offer from the Queen. But Cersei only walked past you as she stopped at the balcony, staring at the houses before her.

"It's unladylike to seek pleasures in brothels," Cersei began. "How could you disgrace yourself. No Lords would attempt to court you if they knew the truth."

You immediately replied, smiling, "I have no interest in men, Your Grace."

She turned to look at you as she sipped from her wine. "But women are merely pawns in this Kingdom. Some day you'd have to marry someone, bed with him and give him a child."

You laughed at the suggestion. But you were only met with a hard gaze. Clearly, Cersei did not find this amusing at all. "Not in Dorne, Your Grace. We are allowed to love and marry who we love."

There was complete silence as she continued to sip her wine while staring at you. You met her gaze just as fierce as she did.

It was then when you noticed how green her eyes were. "Your eyes are beautiful."

You could feel how Cersei tightened her grip around her glass, as if she couldn't believe you'd say such a thing. "Do you wish to be beheaded, Y/n? You're talking to a queen if you need reminding."

"Forgive me, Your Grace, My Queen," you quickly responded. "I didn't mean to offend you. It's just, have you ever been to the North, Your Grace?"

She only raised her eyebrow.

"Well," you went on, "when I was on a trip with my friends to the North during winter, the Northern Lights from the sky were a spectacle to see. And your eyes remind me of that beautiful spectacle."

The crackling of fire against the hearth filled the entire room. Before you could decide whether the redness from her cheeks was caused by your compliment or her drunkenness, Cersei abruptly turned herself back at you.

"See yourself out," she said.

"Your Grace." You bowed before leaving.

And as you were about to open the door, Cersei called out. "Y/n?"

"Yes, Your Grace?"

"The next time I see you shaming my son, I'll see to it myself that you will be beheaded before you can get back to Dorne."

A smirk grew on your face, knowing you had finally caught Cersei's attention. 

[cuddly-asexual]

Some highlights from the Murakami/Inoue talk show!

They had bath salts as part of the merch which are whiskey (inoue) and sake (murakami) scented (yes I bought them). Inoue asked who bought them and then immediately called us all weirdos.

The hosts at the beginning were really funny. One of them kept going on about how cute Sonoi is, he was absolute his biggest fan.

They also found one of the bromide sets very amusing (I didn't buy it sorry, have a blurry picture instead) and commented that it looks like Murakami and Inoue were all lovey-dovey

The venue had both tea and a whole bottle of what I believe was whisky set up on the table for Inoue and Murakami to drink

Once the two are on stage not even a minute passes before Inoue says he wants a glass and both the host and Murakami were like "already???"

This was actually only Inoue's second time doing something like this in Osaka, cuz he actually doesn't like Osaka that much. Apparently he still associates it with all the Yakuza activity that used to happen there. He mentioned being willing to go more often now though.

They talked about all the merch for a while, Murakami was super excited for everything. At one point they were opening the standees and Inoue asked what you even do with them, to which the host and Murakami said "you can bring them around with you and take pictures" to which Inoue replied "Oh cute."

On a side note I didn't realize that Inoue's voice was so deep.

During the merch talk Murakami mentioned that he really wanted them to have pictures taken in aprons and the crowd went wild, then the host and Murakami were like "okay maybe next time."

Apparently the filming for the Faiz anniversary movie was only done in 10 days.

Inoue hasn't seen a lot of his own movies lol??? He still hasn't actually watched the Faiz 20th movie because on the day they showed it he went to an izakaya with some other folks instead. He also hasn't seen the new Donbros vs Kingohger movie so Murakami had to fill him in.

Murakami was in charge of pouring Inoue's drinks and would taste test them all himself before giving the glass back to Inoue which I found amusing.

They did a fun audience participation thing were groups of five people would go up, say a Kaixa quote and then do his henshin and Inoue would choose his favorite. Before they did that though Murakamai would ask if they had anything they wanted to say to Inoue and a lot of the guys my age were like "thank you for raising me" and I think that's so real.

Some questions from the audience that I thought were fun:

One asked about one of Inoue's recipes (I didn't catch if it was the chicken one or not).

Someone asked if Inoue thought Kaixa would become as popular as he is now, and he said "Yeah of course."

Then one asked what Murakami would do if their roles were reversed (Inoue liked this question) and Murakami said he'd have Inoue fetch him drinks and polish his shoes (to which Inoue said that was a kind of a boring answer).

The last question, which unfortunately I didn't fully understand, was someone asking about Inoue kissing someone which I assume is Murakami, but they did drop some other names in there so take this with a grain of salt. All I know for sure is that a kiss did happen apparently and Murakami was playing up being flustered about it.

and lastly I got a picture with them!

Overall, very fun! Good language practice for me as well haha.

[baeddel]

on the racist riots in Belfast

i made a post in 2021 titled "dispatch on the unrest in Belfast" (click) trying to provide some local-knowledge context for the sectarian riots in town. i have no such special knowledge to offer this time. it has been, to be honest, shocking to me how many people came to them and how well organized they were. we have seen an increasing prevalence of anti-immigrant racism in the north in recent years; graffiti saying "locals only" (simple meaning: "whites only") on council houses going to market has been reported on since 2014 (click, 2018 click, 2023 click), for example. and in 2022 the PSNI released a report stating that hate crimes of every kind, including racist hate crimes, had reached the highest of any year since they began counting in 2004/5 (click). according to the BBC as of 2014 "on average a racially motivated offence takes place at least once a day" in Belfast (click) and it has only risen since that. but it was obviously not organized at this scale before. my girlfriend remarked that this was the first time Northern Ireland has had a race riot and i think, assuming we treat sectarian riots as something else, that may be true? (the UK-wide 1919 race riots did not seem to affect Ireland from what i could find and anyway were a bit before partition; otherwise they are quite similar to what is happening today).

perhaps no further context is really possible to give; they are race riots and they are happening because of racism. nevertheless i will try and write down some things i've thought about it.

in the 2021 post i talked about the nature of the disorder, where if you looked at the footage mostly people stood on the pavement and watched while the professionals—loyalist paramilitaries—handled the direct action (hijacking and burning busses and such). that is because these demonstrations were organized by the paramilitaries and everyone must obey them. that is not the case here; the crowds attack people of colour and immigrants, their homes or businesses owned by them, wherever they can find them. if they were kicked out of one area they went somewhere else and did it there; or else they did it where they lived as on Sandy Row. so it seems to be genuinely spontaneous and not directed from above.

the paramilitaries claim they did not organize it (the Belfast Telegraph quote what they call a 'senior loyalist' saying "[w]e didn’t start this, we aren’t behind it" click—what a demonstrative article, by the way, the police asking the paramilitaries for help with population control!). they say that about everything, but i think i believe them this time for that reason. it doesn't look paramilitary. i suppose whoever organized it must be taking orders from England. however, we are aware of at least some involvement by paramilitaries. the rightists who travelled up from Ireland were identified by PSNI and Gardaí to be fraternizing with UDA men (click). blueshirts associating with loyalists is not really surprising but i am not sure it has happened before. PSNI also claim there is a "paramilitary element" within the racist riots but are reluctant to say they're behind them (click).

i have talked before about how loyalism has felt a bit of a transition from an armed struggle into something that looks like a popular movement, with demonstrations and direct action becoming the main source of spectacle. it's possible there is a gradual transition towards this point, where paramilitary hierarchy becomes secondary to a spontaneously organized reactionary movement.

it also fits into a pattern that i have talked about before (click, also here), which is that democracy in the north has undergone dramatic changes recently. whereas in the past the national conversation dominated politics, today ordinary issues of civil society are decisive. the DUP lost their monopoly on unionist voters because of how they handled COVID, the border, the cost of living and so forth—problems a normal political party is expected to solve, not a party holding down a sovereignty under siege as they were supposed to be—and that's why SF got the majority. immigration is one such 'normal' political issue, and racist violence breaks out in Belfast in a way that doesn't differ substantially to how it breaks out at the same time in a normal country like England.

speaking of the fracturing of the DUP, i felt that it was significant that we could name, as a precipitating event, the fracturing of the right wing parties in general. in the north of Ireland the DUP lost much of its support, but no single party could replace it; several unionist parties now leech its vote, while moderate unionists vote for Alliance. and in the recent election the Tories lost to Labour, but they also lost many seats to Reform. between SF and Labour we are in an era where for the first time in a long time the UK is governed by center left parties, meanwhile it is unclear what opposition has the mandate of the right-wing voter. this means that for a right wing person electoral party politics looks like an ambiguous, distant and unrewarding terrain of struggle. perhaps that is a background condition as to why racist propagandists have been able to mobilize so many people into joining these events.

something else that struck me as possibly a precipitating event is that for the better part of a year we've had extremely active and persistent organizing around Palestine in the UK, in terms of demonstrations, direct action and even in electoral politics (with several independent candidates who care about Gaza taking seats from Labour in the last election). thus, right-wing racists have seen news about pro-Palestine organizing almost every day for a long time. we know that here in the north when Palestinian flags are flown it isn't long before Israel flags are flown in response. i think it's possible to see the specifically anti-Islamic character of the riots as a kind of counter-revolution or reaction to Palestine.

those were the thoughts i had to share. on Friday 9th (today as i write this) there is a racist demonstration planned, as well as a counter-protest. the counter-protest is backed by NIPSA (a big NI union) as well as the Belfast City Council (! click), so perhaps it will be big. it starts at 4:30pm. stay safe.

[baejax-the-great]

Absolutely reeling.

So I knew that the origin of "Hector was a great man, moral, noble, better than all of the Greeks" began as Roman propaganda that somehow has made it to now, the year 2023, and is still taught to high school students.

What I did not know was why scholars shit on Achilles as vehemently as they did (and still do).

My copy of Fagles' translation of the Iliad has a preface by a different scholar who I'm not going to bother to name because he's an idiot (and idk probably dead at this point). I read the entire thing, absolutely baffled, because he would cite a part of the text (that I admittedly had not read yet! at all!), quote it, and then come to the most batshit interpretation based on that quote I had ever seen in my life. His general take was that Achilles was a sociopath who had no feelings for anyone other than himself and his own pride, and every action he took (until welcoming Priam into his hut) was done in service of that pride. To support this, he decided that Achilles did not see Patroclus as a person, but rather as an extension of himself, and thus someone injuring Patroclus was them injuring Achilles, and so he did not care about Patroclus, he only cared about his wounded pride.

Yeah.

That sounded wrong before reading the book, and while reading the book all i could think was, "Did we read the same fucking thing???" Put in context, those quotations still did not support his conclusions whatsoever.

But i cracked open Caroline Alexander's "The War That Killed Achilles" last night, and she solves this mystery of "Hector good, Achilles bad" for me right out the gate (which is good because so far I've only read the preface).

Western Europeans by and large learned about the Trojan war from Roman stories, which became fairly popular, and not the Iliad, which was not translated into French or English until centuries later. As mentioned, these were propaganda that cast the Trojans in a much better light than the Greeks because the Romans believed they were descended from Trojan refugees. This starts a trend that is still going on in scholarly circles as casting the Iliad as a war between "barbaric Greeks living in a shitty, lawless camp" vs "civilized, educated, weaving, real-wife-having Trojans," making the Iliad a tragedy in which Homer for some reason skewers his own people and their warlike culture as barbaric while propping up a dead, foreign city-state. This interpretation is still extant and was the postscript to another copy of the Iliad I have.

According to Alexander, scholars closer to Homer's time saw the entire war as a tragedy--both the destruction of Troy AND the destruction of the Greek army. While this is not covered in the Iliad, very few Greeks actually made it home after Troy. Some that did were then outcast (Teucer for example), some were murdered (bye, Agamemnon), some went on to create new kingdoms in other places (Diomedes), but by and large, there was no going home from that war. There was no great victory with all their loot. The entire thing was a disaster for both sides, spurred on by fickle gods.

Back to the more recent European interpretations of this story, one reason Hector ended up cast in such a "good" light, despite being a dumbass who wants to dishonor dead people just as badly as Achilles ever did, was in order to make Achilles look worse. Why was it important that Achilles becomes a villain in this story in which he is very much not a villain? Because Europeans were involved in so much war with each other and the rest of the world that a young, insubordinate man who criticizes his idiot of a commander, decides his life isn't worth throwing away for this war, and refuses to fight to sack a city was an affront to their values. Young men were to be obedient, follow their commanding officers, and colonize the world for queen and country. Achilles suggesting losing his life is not worth it to prop up Agamemnon's war is a dangerous precedent for all the good little soldiers needed to make their nations wealthy.

It's almost funny that these analyses propping up Troy as a beacon of civilization were made by people living in countries so bent on colonizing the world. They identified with the city being sacked and not the greedy sackers of said city, who they were much closer to. And Achilles, educated, morally rigid, emotional Achilles, is recast as a sociopathic asshole who doesn't care about anyone other than himself, unlike all of those other beacons of selflessness among the Greek leadership.

The tragedy of the Iliad is that Achilles is right, the war is pointless, Agamemnon did dishonor the shit out of him, and it doesn't matter because he's going to die in it anyway.

Frankly, given how badly his character has been interpreted for so long, I think the muses owe him an apology.

[the-fox-in-the-socks]

The Mai Akasaki Mystery Flower - Solved?

feat. a mini-dissection of Mai's name

Hi! I have seen a few people here guessing what the flower on Mai’s tattoo is (mostly camellias iirc)… and I think I have the answer!

I think it’s Ochna integerrima, which is also known as the yellow Mai flower. (Hoa mai vàng is it’s Vietnamese name). Yes, the answer may be that simple: the Mai flower is literally the Mai flower. It seems to match her tattoo and is a very similar shade to her eyes.

(Note: I found most of this information in February last year when I just searched ‘mai flower’ on google and saw the results and was like ‘huh?’ and went down a rabbit hole from there lol.)

The flower has great significance to the Vietnamese Lunar New year, or Tết, short for Tết Nguyên Đán. They are used to decorate homes and are in full bloom during Tết, which is around late January to early or mid-February and lasts for around 7-10 days, which also lines up with Mai’s birthday (February 1st).

(please correct me if I am wrong, I got this information from Google and I am not Vietnamese and have never celebrated this holiday myself!)

There is a legend associated with the flower as well, which I believe might help explain what happened to Mai Akasaki.

https://botanicgardens.uw.edu/about/blog/2022/01/31/lunar-new-years-and-the-legend-of-the-mai-flower/

The following is copy-pasted from the above website:

"The Mai flower is named after a heroine in Vietnamese lore. Mai, a young warrior set off with her father to slay a giant serpent which had been terrorising their village. Mai’s mother gave her a bright yellow áo dài (traditional Vietnamese dress) to wear when she returned, so her mother could see her coming. Sadly, Mai ended up sacrificing her life to save her father from the serpent. Impressed by her heroic feats, the Gods made her a saint and granted her the ability to return home to her parents during the Lunar New Year celebration. After her parents passed, Mai transformed into a tree in front of her family home which blossomed with yellow flowers every year. Over time, the villagers would collect branches from this tree and decorate their homes for Lunar New Year."

And here are two other websites I looked at when researching this story:

https://scootersaigontour.com/legend-of-yellow-apricot-blossom-and-peach-blossom-on-vietnamese-new-year/

https://heritagevietnamairlines.com/en/the-tale-of-the-yellow-mai-flowers/

This leads me to believe that Mai sacrificed herself trying to protect the cast from a large threat, perhaps the mastermind/MonoTV, or sacrificed herself during the HPA operation that @1moreff-creator mentions in their post Everything We Know About Mai Akasaki + So Many Theories – @1moreff-creator on Tumblr. (this post is basically the Mai bible, please check it out!)

Additionally, MonoTV’s Mai-related secret quote “It’s all your fault”, and the second anniversary code with the same message, and some of the other Mai secret quotes talking about her in past tense imply that she has already passed, and that the cast is the reason why, which could mean she sacrificed herself for them... so I don't think she is the mastermind!

Her surname can also potentially provide us with clues.

“aka” means red, the same colour as her hair

“sa” means bloom or blossom, a reference to her flower tattoo

“ki” means hope, and why that is important is pretty self-explanatory if you've seen anything Danganronpa related

and "saki" means blossom of hope

(These are all Japanese meanings. I just used google for these translations, I do not know Japanese).

This means that her sharing the same name as this flower is likely not just a coincidence, but a deliberate choice by DRDTdev.

Submitted Surnames with "red" in Meaning - Behind the Name

Tenma Saki | Project SEKAI Wiki | Fandom

(yes I just cited the project sekai wiki as a source in my drdt theory, I don't know how I got here either)

The only problems with this theory that her flower is a Mai flower (that I know of) is probably the Literature Girl Insane flowers and the flowers in the bonus episodes being different colours. For the LGI flowers they may just be different flowers altogether that are there to symbolise something else, or a different aspect of Mai... I'm not sure. And the bonus episode flowers could just be coloured differently for aesthetic purposes.

tl;dr The flower on Mai's tattoo may actually be called 'Mai', it suggests she sacrificed herself and probably isn't the mastermind and her surname reinforces the idea that her name choice is not a coincidence.

This is my first tumblr post so apologies in advance if anything about the formatting is weird! Also critisism is appreciated, I would love to hear your thoughts on this :D

[keepthedelta]

can you tell me something about rubens barrichello? i know that wikipedia exists but learning information from people on tumblr is more interesting

oh rubens barrichello, the greatest second driver in the history of the sport. he was michael schumacher's number two (and apparently michael literally had it written into his contract that rubens would have to give up wins to help him win the championship, and rubens did not know about that) and the two of them are (i think, don't quote me on this) the second most successful driver pairing in the history of f1 (after brocedes of course). rubens was apparently exceptional at setting up a car, jenson button once said that he was the best at setting up a car that he had ever seen (and i think jenson also once said that rubens was his favourite ever teammate).

in 2002, rubens was absolutely dominating at the austrian grand prix. michael was well ahead in the championship and ferrari were dominating the season. towards the end of the race rubens was ordered to let michael past so he could win the race, which rubens did (unhappily, obviously). it caused a massive scandal, i think michael refused to take the top step or pulled rubens up there with him, and afterwards the team was fined something like a million dollars for breach of proceedings (not for the team orders but because of the podium stuff with michael and rubens. Later that year, at the US? grand prix, michael was leading but slowed down supposedly to try and finish in a dead heat with rubens, but rubens was awarded the win because he finished slightly ahead (it is thought that michael did this to pay rubens back for the win that was taken from him). because of the ferrari team order situation, the fia actually banned team orders from the 2003 season (although this move was reversed years later, also because of ferrari and the fernando is faster than you order given to felipe massa).

after being replaced at ferrari by felipe massa, rubens went on to drive for bar honda, and was teammates with jenson button. in 2009, after honda pulled out of f1 following the 2008 financial crash, both of them were retained by brawn. many people were critical of brawn retaining rubens, with some saying he should have been replaced by bruno senna (nephew of ayrton) but both jenson and rubens won multiple races that season, with jenson winning the wdc, and brawn winning the constructors. when jenson won the wdc in brazil he had to go back to the uk to do stuff for sponsors etc. as a sort of victory tour, but there were problems with his flights, so rubens lent him his private jet to take him back (i think rubens also has a pilot's license).

in addition to his achievements in f1, rubens also has the honour of being the very first person to beat the stig on british top gear, something that many f1 drivers had previously tried and failed (seriously i don't know if you have ever seen british top gear but it was one of the biggest shows in the world and when this happened it was a legitimately extraordinary moment).

i believe he now occasionally does commentary/media work for brazilian f1 broadcasters, and at least one of his sons has competed in the lower formulas. he is widely regarded as an incredibly nice man, and is deeply underrated as a driver

[lestappenforever]

So, I’m like a realist, right? Sure, yes, I ship people from time to time but I know it’s just for funsies. So, I saw a lestappen edit last week and was like “hey cute guys, what’s up with these two? I better check it out.” and have fallen into a bit of a rabbit hole it seems. So I’m back in the real world now, where Max is in a long term relationship and Charles has a girlfriend, and am wondering: how does one explain Max’s behaviour? Does he just have a friend-crush on Charles? Has he always wanted to be friends with him since they were young and it was just hard since they’ve been rivals for so long? Does he envy him maybe since his father wasn’t a pos and he still turned into a great driver? Is it a “it’s lonely at the top” kind of situation, where he’s never been able to make many friends his own age? (I’ve seen Charles with a bunch of friends outside of racing, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Max with any, but that could be on me.) I mean, a blind person could see that Max takes every opportunity to talk to him or be close to him and he knows stuff about him I’d personally be too embarrassed to admit (like getting his “stupid” quote exactly right or knowing about the twitch thing with his girlfriend forgetting her keys, etc.). I guess I’m looking for the actual non-shippy explanation for this behaviour cause it fascinates me. What are your two cents on this?

Hi anon, and welcome to the world of Lestappen! We're happy to have you. ❤️

I will preface this by saying that shipping is solely for fun, and I don't actually believe Max and Charles are in a secret relationship or anything of the sort. The majority of Lestappen shippers on Tumblr are on the same page about this, with some exceptions, but there are exceptions to anything. And a big part of shipping is speculating, being delusional about them, and overanalyzing things.

Now, in terms of a non-shipping explanation as to why these two behave the way they do around each other, I think it's a combination of all the reasons you've already listed. And the thing about Max and Charles is that they have known each other for so many years. They have been in each other's orbit, in one way or another, for the majority of their lives, and there is no denying that they have seen each other as one of — if not the — biggest rival they've had since they were children. Despite the fact that a lot of the current drivers on the grid have raced each other at some point before F1, there doesn’t seem to be any of them that have the same sort of rivalry that Max and Charles have, which goes so far back. And that kind of bond is one that I believe sticks with you forever.

Now this is not a delusional take at all, as this quote by Armando Filini, manager of the Maranello Kart, the first team for which Leclerc raced, proves: “They were always fighting. It didn't matter if they were competing in a tie or in a final, if it was raining or if the track was dry. Once we were in Genk, Belgium, in the first free practice, and they went on track. Charles and Max met, began to push each other and almost hit each other, with the risk of being left out. Jos Verstappen and I were glued to the fence to look at them and he turned around and said to me: 'These two will fight forever. They will fight even in F1′. A prophecy”.

Even though Max and Charles obviously haven’t been best friends for the majority of the time they've known each other, and they've only started building what appears to be a genuine friendship in the last few years, they share a connection that has been evident to people around them since they were little.

Max's comment from last season where he said that he wasn't surprised both him and Charles were sitting in that press conference together because he always thought that if he made it into F1, Charles would too, is just another testament to how tied together they actually are. And Charles' fond recollections of their karting days in the past season shows that it's a mutual thing: that Charles feels that same bond with Max that Max feels with him. And I think this is the whole baseline for why they've never been able to be normal about or around each other: because they go so far back and their lives are so intertwined that I honestly don't think either of them is fully capable of treating the other as just any other colleague or friend, because they don't see each other that way. They're something more, and by that I don't mean they're secretly in love with each other — they just have this bond that goes beyond normal friendship, forged through years of rivalry, envy, conflict, mutual growth and respect, and eventual friendship.

I have a childhood friend sort of like that: obviously not with the rivalry and drama that comes with the surroundings in which Max and Charles met and grew up, but someone that I share a bond with that I don't share with any of my other friends, old or new, and it's honestly my most treasured friendship because it has helped shape me as a person in a profound sort of way. He's not my closest friend and not the friend I talk to the most since we live on different sides of the country and our paths haven’t crossed much in the past few years, as is often the case when you grow up and become an independent adult. But when I do talk to him and hang out with him, it kind of feels like coming home. And to me, it seems like Max and Charles share that same type of bond.

This is just my personal take as I obviously don't know Max or Charles, and this is all based off of watching their interactions and watching their relationship develop over the past few years, as well as deepdiving into their history in the past. But this is the explanation that makes sense to me.

[cannedwyrms]

Spoilers for Shadow of the Erdtree but...

I'm gonna talk a bit about Miquella.

So, I've seen a lot of (what I believe to be) misconceptions about what we learn about his character in SOTE. I'd like to clear them up as best I can, although I'm no expert at the lore. Still, I think a lot of people are quick to discard him as an irredeemable villain too quickly, or believe that his character in the dlc is different from how he was presented in the base game.

Now, in the base game, I too thought Miquella was pretty cool. He had the rare honor of being one of like 3 characters to not be racist, he seemed to actually care for his sister and have a good relationship with his brother, and he just seemed like the only demigod with some kind of basic empathy.

However, while I believe all of those things are true, there were signs that there was something deeper going on.

Take the bewitching branch, for example.

It's description goes like this:

"The Empyrean Miquella is loved by many people. Indeed, he has learned very well how to compel such affection."

So, basically, we already knew he could charm people.

Here, I think, is the first misconception. Miquella does not brainwash or mind control people, he just has the ability to make people like him. "He wields love to shrive clean the hearts of men," as the honorable sir Ansbach says.

Shrive, by the way, means to confess, or in this case I think absolve.

So, while Mogh is absolutely the victim, it should be noted that he didn't abandon his original goal. He just factored Miquella into it. His plan went from "rule my dynasty" to "rule my dynasty with Miquella." Still bad, I want to stress, but I think people believe that Miquella can just turn people into mindless slaves or something. All he can do is make you love him and see his point of view.

Next, let's talk about him and Malenia. In the base game, he seemed to really care for her, going as far as leaving the Golden Order when he learned it wouldn't help her.

Now, though, people believe he actually never cared about her at all and even that she was brainwashed into following him.

For this, I'll actually quote Miquella's dialogue in the Consort Radahn fight. (We'll get to him, don't worry)

"My loyal blade, and champion of the festival. Both your deeds will ever be praised in song."

So, when he says "my loyal blade," he's talking about Malenia, right? You know, Malenia, the blade of Miquella.

It's obvious to me that Miquella did care about his sister. His actions in the base game reflect this, and he's the same guy in the dlc, so of course he'd still care about her.

I suppose he could also be talking about Leda here, but what I got from her arc is that she was always doomed by her own bloodlust to be a failure to her cause. In the end, she never truly understood Miquella, and he probably never even knew she existed.

But I'll save all that for another post.

Point is, Miquella definitely cared a lot about his sister, so much so in fact that, in the moment he was so close to achieving his goals, he praised her accomplishments.

But, there's more to his dialogue, which I will use to clear up yet another misconception.

Miquella also praised the tarnished here. "Champion of the Festival," and all that.

This is because Miquella doesn't hate anyone. He doesn't want to fight us. Consider his instant lose move, where he charms you. To me, this reads as Miquella looking for a peaceful outcome to your conflict. What does he say to you?

"I promise you a thousand year voyage guided by compassion."

And

"Lord of the Old Order, let us go together."

It's clear to me that he's trying for a peaceful solution.

See, I think a lot of people have begun to believe that Miquella is some kind of compassionless robot, but, as always with elden ring characters, it's more complex than that.

Miquella obviously has a lot of empathy for the world. Maybe even too much. Instead of him wanting to rule over everything as some kind of God, he simply wants to make the world a kinder place.

Like Marika, he sought godhood not for personal power, but for a cause. But, as we all know by now, to become a god in Elden Ring is to abandon your humanity.

Miquella literally does this, while I think for Marika it's a bit more metaphorical.

Elden Ring is about how people lose themselves in pursuit of their goals, and this is especially true in SOTE.

So, with that framework, Miquella is actually the obvious choice for the main antagonist of the dlc.

Think about it.

What better antagonist could there be for a game about purpose and cause being twisted than a highly compassionate person who became a monster? It's almost painfully on the nose. (In a good way)

Miquella might even be aware that he's done awful things, but as long as it's in service of a better future, he probably sees it as a necessary evil. Still evil, mind you, but necessary.

Normally, I'd just say that if he worked on making everyone be less being racist and mean, then no one would need necessary evil, but Elden Ring avoids this because, at the time out tarnished arrives back at the lands between, racism is literally a law of reality.

It seems like the only way to change that would be for a new god to write new rules.

I don't know, that's all mostly speculation on my part, but whatever. My point is, Miquella absolutely makes sense as the main antagonist of the dlc, but he is notably not the main antagonist of the base game, nor the story at large.

Personally, I'd argue those titles fall to Morgott and Marika respectively, but I digress.

Miquella is just one link in a long chain of people fighting for a cause they believe in. Really, his actions are no worse than Ranni's, but strangely no one is really as upset about the fact that she literally had Godwin murdered to attain her goals as they are with Miquella doing the same thing to Mogh.

Something interesting that I noticed is that Miquella is actually very similar to Messmer. Whether that was intentional or not is not for me to say, but I do think it's interesting that the oldest demigod and the youngest have a lot in common.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm no Messmer lore expert , but, for example, Messmer is often described as being very compassionate and nice, only taking on the burden of being the face of the hornsent genocide to spare his mother that shame. It's an interesting contradiction, to be sure, and one that is quite similar to how Miquella sheds his humanity to make a brighter future.

Perhaps Messmer is meant, in part, to mirror Miquella to make his seemingly "villainous" turn make more sense.

Again, maybe that's just speculation on my part, but what's important is that Elden Ring stresses again and again that there is no such thing as pure evil. Everyone's a victim in some way.

All that to say, I don't think Miquella is out of character in the dlc. I think everything we learn about him is perfectly in line with his portrayal in the base game.

Alright, it's finally time to talk about the big guy with a little horse.

So, I've seen a lot of people say that Radahn was charmed and used by Miquella, or that Miquella only saw him as a tool, but I really don't think that's true.

Let's take a look at some more of Miquella's dialogue.

"Aspiring Lord of the Old Order. If you have known sin, if you grieve for this world, then yeild the path forward to us. To I, Miquella, and my Promised Consort, Radahn."

Now, I don't know about you, but of Miquella only saw Radahn as a tool, then what's with all the "Yeild the path forward to us," and "To I, Miquella, and my Promised Consort, Radahn."

If he really viewed Radahn as just a means to an end, then why specify the both of them, unless Radahn was always in on Miq's plot?

Also, if Miquella really only wanted a big guy to ride around on and fight for him, why go through all the trouble of making Radahn a promise? Why not just bewitch him from the start and just force him to follow you?

I don't know why Radahn and Malenia fought. Maybe that was part of the vow, if Miquella could grant Radahn a warrior's death, then he'd follow him, or something like that. So maybe my theory isn't totally sound, but I do still think it's just as plausible as the bewitched theory, if not more.

Another thing I've heard people say as evidence of the bewitched theory is that Radahn wouldn't have gone along with it because Leonard wouldn't be with him.

But, like, you guys, that horse is dead. You killed it in your fight with Radahn in the base game. And Radahn is obsessed with warrior's deaths and all that. He probably saw that Leonard was dead, mourned him silently, and even resolved to take take revenge on the one who killed him, which, again, is you.

And, as a side note, Starscourge Radahn did not treat Leonard with any amount of respect. Did we even see the same attack animations. He was pushing him into the ground, standing on him, and definitely not feeding him. Leonard was described as scrawny, but when we see him, he's downright skeletal. And of course Radahn wasn't taking care of him. He was a literal zombie.

So, I don't think Radahn was bewitched. I think he willingly went with Miquella, once his soul was put into Mogh's body.

Miquella, at his core, is compassion without understanding. He feels for the plight of the world and its inhabitants without having the context necessary to understand why they are suffering. It's a very childish outlook, reflected in his design and curse, his outward childlike form representing his nieve understanding of the world.

That's why he can only see godhood as the solution to the suffering. Because it's all he knows. He was an empearyan, after all.

Of course, if he was a little more emotionally intelligent, he'd realize that abandoning everything that made him who he was is a bad thing, but he's not. He can't see past his own status, not in an arrogant way, it's more like he just doesn't know or understand there's an alternative.

He's that theme I mentioned earlier, the pursuit of goals turning you into a monster, personified. I mean he literally leaves his humanity behind. Can't get much more obvious than that.

Well, that's everything I have on Miquella, at least for now. I've just seen so many "Miquella is actually super evil" type posts and videos, and just a general increase in Miquella hate, which maybe is to be expected, but I still think a lot of people missed the point.

If course, everything I've said is subjective, and if Miquella being evil is what makes you like the character, then more power to you.

But if you, like, actively hate Miquella or misunderstand what we're presented in game, then I don't know. I can't stop you, I guess, but maybe I've managed to change your mind. I think the fun of lore hunting in this game is that everyone kinda has their own version of events, it's almost like we're historians debating ancient history. Idk, I just find that cool, so if your interpretation differs from mine, I think that's fine. Just don't be an ass about it, basically.

Tl;dr: if you took a shot every time I started a thought with "now" or "so," you'd be dead.

Okay, that's all, bye.

A brief adendum to this post:

So I've done a bit more thinking, and somehow completely forgot about the fact that Miquella appeared in Caelid after Malenia bloomed, to help the wounded.

This does, at first blush, come off as quite the dick move on Miquella's part, as he didn't think to help his sister, but I do have some thoughts and speculations.

What if he couldn't? Like, he's a small guy, it's not like he could've carried her all the way back himself. Maybe he trusted Finlay (Malenia's gf, it's canon) enough to let her do it. I mean, I guess it depends on how he got to Caelid in the first place, but like how does anyone in this game get anywhere?

No one uses ships as far as I'm aware, and the only transportation we see is like horse or giant drawn carriages, which are already pretty slow. Maybe Finlay asked to carry her back. Maybe Miquella could have used Torrent, but idk. This is all just speculation on my end.

Anyway, I also think this points to my earlier speculation about Miquella's character thematically. He saw only the wounded he needed to help, but ignored the one closest to him in the process. This interpretation lends itself very well to the idea of his childlike, naive ideas of compassion.

Okay, that's really it this time. I'll probably talk about Leda and the others next.

Bye

[breezy141]

INSPIRED - james marriott masterlist

any quotes in this are from pinterest !! i did not come up with any quotes or names of books !!

throwing your head back in annoyance you could not figure out what to write, to say you were currently dealing with writers block was an understatement. every time you thought of something to write, your brain would pick it apart and in the end it sounded absolutely ridiculous.

you were quite a popular author, you wrote books of quotes; some happy, some sad, some lustful, some angry and some romantic ones. you dabbled in full books, but they took more of a creative mind and you didn’t believe you were ready for that level yet.

the series of books was under the name the smell of books, they are the most popular amongst the more young people. people often posted pages on their insta stories, tagging you in them, which helped gain you a little more popularity.

but right now, you were sat at your desk, head thrown back and eyes closed. it was hard being an author, sometimes you will have moments where you are full of creativity and excited to write, other times you dread sitting down with your book and pen as you have nothing to jot down. it was already late at night which was only making you more anxious.

the sound of the door being pushed open startled you a little, turning around you saw your sweet boyfriend. “oh! i’m sorry i didn’t know you were in here, thought you were in bed” smiling to yourself, you shook your head.

“it’s okay, i came to write but i don’t really know what to write. you came to stream?” you asked leaning back in your chair further. he nodded softly, “if that’s alright with you darling, i don’t want to distract you or anything”

“it’s okay, i promise james.” he nodded and gave you a kiss on the forehead as he walked by, he sat at his own desk and set up a couple things.

“so, no inspiration at all?” he spoke looking over at you, you shook your head feeling quite annoyed at yourself. you used to be so good in thinking of things on the spot, you loved it but now it was almost like you were running out of fuel.

“i’m sorry angel, i wish i could help; i believe you will figure it out though, you have a creative mind and always find a way” smiling sweetly at him, you thanked him for his kind words and went back to staring into space thinking.

after a while, james began speaking to his twitch chat and reacting to tik toks sent to him. it was funny watching his reaction, but what was even better was watching him laugh at such silly things.

you caught yourself smiling at the fact of him laughing, it was a cute laugh, one that could immediately light up a room. his outgoing and precious personality was so attractive to you, whether it was for a camera or not. he was amazing and extremely perfect to you.

as you watched james many ideas came to you, you picked up your pen and began writing with ease.

“he looks just like a dream, the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen”

“he found his happy in me. like i found mine in him. in us. in this.”

“a may be the writer, but you’ll always be the words”

“home is whenever i’m with you”

“when he calls me pretty i feel like i’m floating”

and many more.

giggling to yourself, you were happy you managed to get more then 2 quotes down. james noticed your sudden happiness and smiled to himself, remembering to ask you about it all once he was done.

you closed up your book and put your pen in the mug james hand painted for you as a random gift one day. stretching your arms above your head, you dragged yourself over to james and gave him a kiss on his cheek before waving him goodbye and dragging yourself further to the bedroom.

-

you were all cozied up in bed, one of james large t-shirts on paired with some cotton pink pj shorts. otto laid on your stomach giving you your own personal hot water bottle, and a large fluffy blanket was lazily thrown over you. focusing on the book in front of you, you didn’t even realise james had opened the bedroom door and made his way over to the bed.

jumping at his presence, he chuckled a bit. “i noticed you had managed to get a couple things wrote down” he got into something more cozy and had slipped under the blanket with you.

“a couple is a understatement, i got loads wrote down. loads of inspiration too” you placed your book on the bed side table and cuddled up to james, otto soon jumped off of the bed and found his way into his own bed.

“oh yeah? what kind things did you write?” he asked genuinely curious. “hmm, you can’t know yet. just know it was heavily influenced by you” he raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“your adorable, i love you” he said kissing you slowly, it was full of love and passion. “i’m proud of you for sticking to your job, instead of giving up like some people do” snuggling closer, you breathed in deeply, breathing in his musky scent. a scent you loved always.

[flowerandblood]

The Prince and The Fox (3)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, mention of sexual abuse, violence, trauma ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned. Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood! Story Music Playlist. Song used in this chapter: Don't Bring Me Down by Electric Light Orchestra.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

From that day on, they both took off their earphones when they stood together at the bus stop. Her presence had apparently stopped being awkward for him and he had become addicted to listening to Kajagoogoo, although he admitted it reluctantly.

"They have a terrible band name, but that bass is fucking awesome. They got really into my head and it's good to listen to them in the background while doing something else at the same time." He muttered, without looking at her, scrolling something on his phone.

She knew this was his way of distracting himself from the stress of the conversation, that he wasn't good at it and pretended to be indifferent, his lips tightened.

Since the whole thing reached the headmaster of the school the matter became very serious and Cregan was not laughing anymore. The headmaster became very concerned about the whole situation and even though it was not the school where the sexual abuse took place, bullying did.

On the corridor cameras, Cregan could be seen knocking her over by propping her up with his leg, as one of his buddies scratched the word 'liar' with his key on her locker.

Although these were not crimes for which you could go to jail, the principal invited her to an interview accompanied by the school psychologist. The headmaster asked her if she wanted someone to accompany her during this talk and she said without thinking: Aemond.

She surprised him when she asked him to go with her to his office, he was the only one to witness it all and she was afraid to be there alone. He just nodded and answered nothing, clicking something on his phone, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

They went there together.

The director approached the matter with understanding and quoted to her what he had heard the day before from Aemond.

"Your colleague told me that he witnessed the incident and that there is video footage of what happened. I also know that Cregan's classmates nag you a lot because they prefer to believe him. The psychologist and I thought that, if you agree, we would give his class some shock therapy and show them the part of the video that shows him hurting you.

Of course, we will only do this if you agree, however, we believe that if Mr Stark loses his credibility, you will regain your composure and be able to focus on your education rather than the unpleasant incidents you continue to face from them. We know that the footage shows nothing of which you would be ashamed, nor of course your exposed body." He concluded, glancing uncertainly at the lady psychologist.

She didn't know what to say, she could feel her heart pounding hard.

"Think it over calmly. It's just a suggestion and you don't have to do it. We want to help you and we know it's hard for you." Said the psychologist in a soft, calm voice.

She looked apprehensively at Aemond, who was staring at her out of the corner of his eye with his lips tightened, himself clearly not sure what he was thinking.

"It's your decision. You don't have to do it. But I think this bugger deserves it. He walks around the school like a king, he thinks you don't have the guts to show it. That you'll be embarrassed when he's the one who should be ashamed of himself." He said lowly, and she thought with pain that he was right.

Why should he spread rumours about her, lie that she wanted this?

"Fine." She mumbled, the headmaster sighed quietly.

"Do you want to be there when we show them this?" He asked lowly, and she shook her head quickly.

"No."

She delivered an excerpt of the video to the director that next day. He and the lady psychologist watched it to make sure that the video would not portray her in a negative light and make matters worse, but what they saw left no illusions.

She knew that the headmaster would go to Cregan's class with the psychologist at their advisory class and throughout the day she felt like she was going to die, her whole body was trembling, she hadn't eaten anything and she was cold.

As she sat during one of the breaks outside the classroom, staring dully at the floor Aemond sat down next to her and sighed, taking out of his pocket her favourite chocolate bar, Milkyway, which he must have bought from the school vending machine. She looked at him gratefully and shook her head.

"Have you eaten anything today?" He asked lowly and she shook her head again, lowering her gaze.

"I won't swallow anything. My stomach has been hurting since this morning."

"Hmm."

They sat side by side like that, their shoulders and knees touching, not speaking until the bell rang announcing that the break was over.

They sat down to their benches, the teacher came in, but she couldn't concentrate on what he was saying, terrified.

Everyone was watching it now.

She covered her face with her hands, thinking that she had made a mistake, that it would get worse.

However, to her surprise, as she walked out of the classroom she was approached by several people from his class who had also thrown unpleasant comments at her earlier, including his buddy, who shouted to her and Aemond at the time whether they were going to go fuck.

They stood for a moment as if they didn't know what to say.

"Hi. We saw the video. I…fuck." Said the boy, scratching his brow with his thumb, pale, embarrassed, horrified. "I…I really believed him. I swear to you I would never have suspected he was capable of such a thing. When I watched you pull away from him and he wouldn't let you go…fuck, a red light should have lit up in my head earlier as he said he was going to fuck you, but I thought, I don't know, that's what you want, that you're into him, not that…"

He stammered, all red, she could see he was barely holding back tears. He shrugged his shoulders.

"And yet I acted like a stupid piece of shit to you. Then, after all of that. I believed my mate, I thought I knew him." He said without looking at her, his other colleagues nodding.

"We're ashamed. He walked around talking about it as if nothing had happened, as if it was just your imagination. He cried in class as the principal came in and said what he was going to show us. I think he realised he was going to lose a lot of friends."

She looked at them all with her heart beating hard, scared and ashamed at the same time, not knowing what she should say to them.

Most of all, however, she felt relieved.

They had finally left her alone.

If she could consider that something good had come out of all this, it was certainly her relationship with Aemond. They only talked on the bus or while waiting for him at the bus stop, usually about school, teachers, homework, or music.

He played her songs on his earphones when she asked him if he could recommend something new to her, however, he always listened to Kajagoogoo with her on the way to school.

She liked the fact that this had already become their routine, something they shared, proof that they had established a bond, this time unforced, desired from both sides.

She found to her surprise that he was actually a very sensitive, calm man.

She really liked him.

Helaena was very concerned about all that had happened, and wrote to her often to find out how she was feeling. She didn't want to impose on her and didn't visit her at home.

However, one day she asked if she would like to stay with her for the night and sleep in her room, talk about everything that was on her mind and then watch Shrek together or another cartoon they loved as children.

She thought it was a good idea.

She arrived at the appointed time in the evening, Alicent opened the door, smiling warmly and embracing her.

Since the situation with Cregan it seemed that their families had become closer, her parents were extremely grateful to Aemond for what he had done and always greeted him when they saw him on the street or in the shop, embarrassing him.

She saw Helaena run out from over her shoulder and wave to her, holding two bags of their favourite Chips and a carton of orange juice.

Walking towards the stairs she swallowed loudly as she saw the exit to the garden, feeling an unpleasant tightening in her pit and a cold sweat on her back.

She squealed when suddenly Vhagar ran out at them from upstairs, wagging her tail and barking, happy that they had a visitor, almost knocking her over.

"Vhagar!" She heard his impatient, low voice. "Come back here! Immediately."

Vhagar ran up to him, looking at him with her big, pleading black eyes, and he sighed as he stroked her fur. She smiled at him as she passed him, they threw each other a brief, shy 'hi' before she disappeared with Helaena into her room.

Although she didn't want to at first, she felt she had to get it out of her, that she couldn't take it anymore, that it was poisoning her from the inside.

They were both sitting in their pyjamas, T-shirts and shorts on her carpet, a bowl full of crisps and two glasses full of juice between them.

"At first when he touched my thigh I thought − gee, maybe he really likes me that much that he can't stop, I don't know. I felt, I sensed something was wrong and I'm mad that I didn't push him away then! I went outside with him because I thought maybe I don't know, he wants to sit with me in an embrace, stroke me, hold my hand, kiss me. And when he slipped his hand under my dress, when he squeezed me, when he wouldn't let me move or pull away I felt…" She stammered, feeling her voice break, her throat tighten, tears gather in her eyes.

"…God, I just felt that I was very afraid of him, that it was very bad and terrible, that I didn't want it, that he was hurting me, that it was such a bad touch, I don't know how to describe it." She mumbled, Helaena looking at her with her lips slightly parted, her eyebrows arched in pain, her light hair tied up in a bun.

"It felt like I couldn't breathe, it felt like I wanted to scream, like someone was skinning me, it's this feeling of sudden panic, but also something else, like deep in your lower abdomen, this all-consuming fear and terror, like the air is stuck in your throat and you can't catch your breath." She muttered quickly, shaking her head, refusing to let the tears flow, her lips tightening.

"I don't know how he can think it's nothing. To live with the fact that I asked him to stop and he didn't." She shrugged her shoulders, Helaena got up and sat beside her, embracing her, letting her lie on her thighs.

She burst into tears when she started to stroke her head, when she told her that it wasn't her fault and that no one blamed her, that just because she hadn't pushed him away at first didn't mean he had the right to do what he did, that he had done it deliberately and premeditatedly, that no meant no.

She shuddered and lifted her gaze when she heard movement near her room, as if someone had moved out of place, and then the quiet sound of a door opening and closing.

Was he listening to what she was talking about? Was he eavesdropping on them?

She pressed her lips together, lowering her head, feeling ashamed.

She said she would go to the toilet to bring herself to order, but in fact she went to his door, hearing from it the song he had shown her a few days before, 'Don't Bring Me Down' played by the Electric Light Orchestra.

She knocked loudly and heard that after a moment the music quieted, someone's footsteps on the other side.

He opened the door and looked at her in surprise, involuntarily glancing down at her bare legs and then at her face again, swallowing loudly.

"Were you eavesdropping?" She asked reproachfully.

He pressed his lips together, looking away.

"Yeah. I'm sorry." He said low with sincere regret. "I wanted to know how you were feeling. How you're coping with it."

"Can't you just ask me?" She said regretfully, looking at him with her eyebrows arched in pain, feeling the tears under her eyelids again, emotionally unhinged from what she had recounted.

He looked at her surprised, she could see that he was uncomfortable. He let out a loud breath.

"I'm not good at this. At talking. I didn't know if I should ask. Whether it was the right thing to do. I don't know what more I could say." He muttered, shrugging his shoulders, looking everywhere but at her.

"You can ask me anything you want. I trust you." She said softly, and he swallowed loudly, as if for some reason her words caused him pain, as if he wanted to say something more, as if he had something on the tip of his tongue.

She waited patiently for him to pull himself together, for him to think through what he wanted to say. He looked at her.

"I hated you all these years. I hated you because I saw you as a person who does everything for show. For show you baked me cakes to make you feel good about yourself, for show you came here and apologised to me, always loud, always first everywhere, you always had to have your opinion about everything." He said low and fast, and she felt the cold sweat on her back and the frighteningly strong pounding of her heart as she looked at him in disbelief.

"When I heard what Cregan said to his mates I thought I should warn you. To say: be careful, he's planning something more, he's talking about you to his mates as if you were an object. But I didn't. Because I didn't like you." He muttered and she saw his lower lip tremble, his healthy eye red, his breath hitched.

"If I told you, it wouldn't have happened. Do you know how I have you saved on my phone?" He asked in a trembling voice, a single tear running down his cheek.

"Foxy."

She felt tear after tear begin to run down her face, she drew in air loudly feeling tightness in her throat, she felt like someone was tearing her heart from the inside out, a strange, broken sound came from her chest.

"Please, hug me." She mumbled so pitifully that his face contorted in a grimace of pain and regret, he pulled her to him instantly and she clamped her hands on the material of his Tshirt, sobbing loudly, his arms wrapped around her tightly on each side.

"− I'm sorry −" He muttered in a low, hoarse, breaking voice. "− I'm sorry −"

She lifted her gaze to him, trying to catch her breath, and he lowered his head to look at her, their faces almost touching, their hot breaths surrounding their skin.

She felt something strange looking at him so closely, she thought he had a lovely eye colour, that he had fine cheekbones, a pleasing nose and forehead. Something changed in his gaze when he noticed that she glanced at his lips and found them surprisingly full, they looked soft, slightly parted in his accelerated breathing.

She felt his body tense up, felt his fingers clench tighter on her back. All she could hear was the loud pounding of her heart and their breaths, nothing more.

"− wanna kiss? −" She heard him whisper, as if it was a kind of casual proposal, as if he was asking her if she felt like eating something or going for a walk.

She swallowed loudly, glancing at him again, and simply nodded.

She didn't have time to take another breath and his warm, soft lips were already on hers, she felt his hand on the back of her neck which drew her close, making his job easier, he sighed as if with some kind of relief.

She had never suspected that kisses were so wet and sticky, so noisy, but she didn't want him to stop, so she stroked his scarred cheek with her hand, closing her eyes, mimicking his movements, brushing her lips against his with a loud click.

She tightened her second hand in his short, light hair, feeling the heat in her lower abdomen, feeling the pulsation between her thighs, his lips wonderfully soft, moist and firm, he brushed and sucked her fleshy skin, their breaths loud and drawn out.

"− fuck −" He growled out between one loud click of saliva and the next, panting along with her, their kisses increasingly deep, intimate, passionate and wet.

They pulled away from each other suddenly, breathing as if they had run a marathon, looking at each other in disbelief.

"− I − are you all right? −" He mumbled, his healthy eye wide open in panic.

She just nodded, feeling that she looked just like him. She moved away from him and he let her go immediately, running his hand over his mouth and chin in a gesture of disbelief.

"− I − fuck −" He muttered and they both gasped when they heard the sound of the door opening, Helaena leaned her head out, clearly worried that she hadn't been back for so long.

"− are you okay? −" She asked loudly, surprised, and she nodded, looking up at him with her heart pounding like mad, swallowing hard.

"− y-yes − I − I am coming −" She muttered and ran towards her, Helaena smiled at her and closed the door behind her.

She said she had already found Shrek online on her laptop and everything was ready to watch. She smiled and sat down on her bed next to her, trying to focus on what she was seeing, but her thoughts, as well as her heart, were with someone else, a few rooms away.

They kissed.

Good God.

An excellent start to a friendly relationship indeed.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[zcinderone]

Some ideas and criticism about case2

spoiler

I realized why people were so split and clueless right till the end. It’s because the murder itself was too simple, not too mysterious. You literally need only two existing facts to figure out whodunit a year ago: Only Teruko, Ace and Eden had access to the tape. Eden had alibi for the fish. Nothing in the resuming trial even helped further uncover or hide these two clues. Recalling the band is a bonus point as a physical proof for boss fight but not needed to know it has to be you! In classic DR cases you have to go through layers and layers of the murder mystery itself and when things are peeled and exhausted well enough, the candidate close to the last layer is most definitely the one. Yet this case is so unique: they only dabbled on the murder method a bit and quickly locked hard on two targets, effectively creating a delusion in your subconsciousness to expect some extra layers to unravel the secret when it really was the first and last one. But the case itself was so compelling because they went through such fantastical trivial things to construct solid conflicts and personal stories(which is arguably the best part in my opinoin about DR formula ) and consumed so much time. Had they switched order by chance and discussed the method first, it would literally be game over from the get-go.

Still, there are things I really feel that did damage to (further pefecting )the story.

1,Ace was in fact quite clever to figure out and pull such convoluted plan but locked this in a very narrow scope including himself. Their reasoning is well Ace choke her unconscious so people would lock some stronger dudes dismissing ladies I guess so he needed to imitate Nico which makes 0 sense and actually double locks him as that one would be strong enough and have been at the previous crime scene. And the explanation for all that is, quote Charles “ace is nothing if not unintelligent so he thought it would work” so simple and so incoherent.

 2, Water with fish, complete plot device, to help clear Eden and lock Ace, despite he can get water anywhere and more safely.

 3, Scuff on the floor, never mentioned again, you could guess it is from the struggle and it can make sense but it felt so off not even mentioning it in the closing argument.

4. Arei just didn’t wear her glove that morning. This one knocked me out hard.

There are still some things I don't find convincing but I somehow can forced myself to believe they could work and don't affect a great murder case. But these four I'm not so sure.

So far, I feel story-wise drdt still probably is the best I've seen but I genuinely feel this chapter didn't deliver a murder mystery(by itself not the whole trial) nearly on par. It's such a pity that there is some great chance already in its narrative that can make perfect sense out of a 3rd party twist(imagine how this would be received when everyone was fretting between Ace and Eden ). Every best wish to this masterpiece in the future, especially hope it can genuinely outsmart me, not in a "you believe I am way smarter but no I fooled you!" kind of trick-smart me way.